05-13-2018, 01:20 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; color: black; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"]Music had always been apart of Eli's life. He had grown up with the songs of the seventies and eighties, and even some of the modern songs that were offered. It was a good coping mechanism that wasn't something destructive, like cigarettes or booze. Some songs even carried him through his depression years ago, and he had the music to thank for not letting him slip under. The songs that played in the bar were transmitted via radio half of the time, but mostly, it was Eli's own personal mix that filled the place. Billy Joel, Led Zeppelin, The Police... It gave the bar a much more vintage vibe to it. It reminded you of the past, in a sense. It reminded you of a world that was much simpler.
In the middle of his polishing, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. The little bell above the door jingled, signaling that someone had arrived. That someone happened to be Bianca, a girl that he had met a little while ago, and a girl that happened to be his neighbor. They were... friends. Ish. He wouldn't call her his best friend, but he was fine talking with her. As she pointed to a poster, his gaze followed and he eyed it as well. It was in French, and he never understood what it said, though it appeared to be a woman holding a bottle of champagne. Her crinkled eyes and her pearly white smile was timeless, and he couldn't help but wonder if people were really that jovial all those years ago. "In the forties and fifties, yeah." Eli shrugged; he was pretty sure those were from that time period, anyways. He wasn't too sure- he hadn't originally put up the posters, after all. The bartender glanced back at Bianca, a sight that was always interesting to behold. He didn't see people like her that often — there were people with birthmarks and beauty spots, but Bianca's markings told a story. A story he didn't know anything about. A story that he doubted he would learn. When he had first met her, he had been a bit shocked to see how much she went through, but now he knew that those scars didn't define her. And why would they? She was, overall, a pretty face. That didn't mean much to Elias — he could appreciate how someone looked without rushing into anything. He wasn't, well, desperate.
Eli blinked, setting the damp towel to the side as Bianca requested an order. It... wasn't very specific, though. "Something that tastes good", she said. "Well, that depends. What tastes good to you?" He asked, giving a small raise of his eyebrows. Alcohol tasted different to everyone, and it all depended on what you liked. Hell, alcohol wasn't even consumed for its taste (most of the time). It was consumed because of the effects. Eli knew about this first-hand, but over the years, he had acquired an appreciation for all types of drinks. "You more of a hard liquor girl or fruity kind of girl?" He asked her, trying to get a feel for what to make. Ideas were brewing in his mind already.
In the middle of his polishing, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. The little bell above the door jingled, signaling that someone had arrived. That someone happened to be Bianca, a girl that he had met a little while ago, and a girl that happened to be his neighbor. They were... friends. Ish. He wouldn't call her his best friend, but he was fine talking with her. As she pointed to a poster, his gaze followed and he eyed it as well. It was in French, and he never understood what it said, though it appeared to be a woman holding a bottle of champagne. Her crinkled eyes and her pearly white smile was timeless, and he couldn't help but wonder if people were really that jovial all those years ago. "In the forties and fifties, yeah." Eli shrugged; he was pretty sure those were from that time period, anyways. He wasn't too sure- he hadn't originally put up the posters, after all. The bartender glanced back at Bianca, a sight that was always interesting to behold. He didn't see people like her that often — there were people with birthmarks and beauty spots, but Bianca's markings told a story. A story he didn't know anything about. A story that he doubted he would learn. When he had first met her, he had been a bit shocked to see how much she went through, but now he knew that those scars didn't define her. And why would they? She was, overall, a pretty face. That didn't mean much to Elias — he could appreciate how someone looked without rushing into anything. He wasn't, well, desperate.
Eli blinked, setting the damp towel to the side as Bianca requested an order. It... wasn't very specific, though. "Something that tastes good", she said. "Well, that depends. What tastes good to you?" He asked, giving a small raise of his eyebrows. Alcohol tasted different to everyone, and it all depended on what you liked. Hell, alcohol wasn't even consumed for its taste (most of the time). It was consumed because of the effects. Eli knew about this first-hand, but over the years, he had acquired an appreciation for all types of drinks. "You more of a hard liquor girl or fruity kind of girl?" He asked her, trying to get a feel for what to make. Ideas were brewing in his mind already.
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CUPID HIT ME, CUPID HIT ME WITH PRECISION
I WONDER IF YOU LOOK BOTH WAYS WHEN YOU CROSS MY MIND.
beatles // she or her pronouns // characters // see profile for more info